


Fault

by highfunctioningsupersoldiersociopath



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 03:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16802479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highfunctioningsupersoldiersociopath/pseuds/highfunctioningsupersoldiersociopath
Summary: Death will always find a way...





	Fault

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! So, this is an old one I found lying about, collecting dust, and something must have been wrong with me when I wrote it because the angst is unparalleled, lol. This is based on a prompt which is in the notes at the end so I don't spoil anything. Enjoy.

Panic like nothing she'd ever felt before was spreading throughout her mind, taking control of her, putting her body on autopilot whilst her conscience slipped just out of reach. A third person point of view for something that required her full attention was not appropriate for the situation yet she couldn't bring herself to face the problem head-on. 

There was a chill taking root at the bottom of her heart and she could do nothing to stop it. It seemed like she couldn't do _anything_ at the moment. She could see her own beaten and bruised body holding that of the man she loved, trembling, quivering in pain, pain, pain - his head rested in her lap, eyes closed. She could see him trying to regulate his breathing, regulate his heartbeat - reduce blood flow to the massive gash that nearly cut him in half and live another day for his girl, but even super soldiers aren't invincible.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." She paused her litany to suck in a lungful of air that had the lingering tang of blood and death that she was so familiar with, but not in these circumstances, never had she imagined anything like this happening - they were going to go out for dinner tonight once they got back, had cleaned up, and rested. Maybe a calm stroll through the park, hand in hand, just enjoying each other's company and come home laughing about something dorky he'd said and fall asleep on the sofa after watching some silly rom-com; but not this, never this.

There wasn't any back-up, and although she'd just called for some as well as medical assistance, it would feel like years before they arrived. In her gut, she knew that this was Game Over, the one she'd had such fun playing, but unfortunately, you only get one life.

Hearing her stop, he found enough energy to open his eyes, revealing bright blues that she would always love, even if they were clouded with pain- both physical and emotional: he really didn't want to leave her alone; he knew he was her rock, the only thing tethering her to this world... And she was his too, but the agony in his torso was too much to bear and the effort required to look at her nearly made him black out for good and he was glad he didn't. He needed her to know.

"It wasn't your fault, darlin'," he managed to rasp out, the words nearly getting caught in his throat, only to let his eyelids slide shut and hear her burst into sobs again, continuing her mantra of apologies that made his heart break with their sincerity. She hadn't intended to be brainwashed, forced into something she couldn't control and watch from inside as her body acted on its own accord. He knew the feeling and to hold her accountable was something he just couldn't do because she had told him countless times how he was not at fault for being the Winter Soldier, always after a particularly gruelling nightmare. She had to know before his time ran out.

He felt her tears land on his face and the coolness of them surprised him in a way that barely required thinking; he felt her shaking with the force of her cries but despite the circumstances, he thought she was beautiful, gorgeous, glorious, even, with her dirt and sweat-stained face, his blood making a special appearance and he thought it an image to treasure, for sure. He could smell the faint remnants of her perfume she'd applied before they'd been notified of this mission. It made him feel at home; for him, home was wherever she was, so as he took a final shuddering breath, it was with the thought that, again, despite the circumstances, he would die at home and he was at peace with that.

She felt him go limp, the last of his life leaving his body and her desperation grew, the weightless words rolling off her tongue changed into begging: "Please, please, please..." She felt helpless, able to do nothing but watch on as she cradled his head and rocked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The pain in her chest - her heart - never lessened and she doubled over, leaning her forehead against his, in the hopes that the skin-to-skin contact would lessen the hurt and quell the burning shame coursing through her.

"No, no, no, no, no..."

Despair.

The feeling of hot wetness on her cheeks brought her ethereal-self crashing back into reality and she realised she was crying, scalding tears making her eyes sting; she was repeating something unintelligible, something that sounded so desperate - desperate to feel his warmth, rocking back and forth trying to comfort them when she knew he no longer needed comforting.

The medical team found her still in that position, the body of Bucky Barnes long gone cold.

It was almost too easy to pry her away from him, with little to no resistance on her part. She followed them blindly, unseeing, unfeeling.

Numb.

It would take her years to work around the hole he left in her heart; years to finally feel a sense of normalcy; years to wake up and not look to the other side of the bed, expecting to see his warm body sleeping peacefully; and years to realise that his last words to her were true. Even longer to thank her friends for being there for her, when they were experiencing a similar pain - the loss hard for them too. She would thank them, tears would be shed, but happy tears this time, ones of friendship and love and laughter, and of the knowledge that there'll be more to come.

On one of her more contemplative, reminiscent days, she thought of him and how they would fool around together, getting on everyone's nerves, of how well they worked together as a team, of how he would always kiss her nose after he woke up. To say she missed him would be an understatement, but he was in a better place, she told herself. He was free from the torture he had endured in his time on this earth, free from the darkness that plagued his mind, especially at night when he would be the most vulnerable. Sure: a better place. Maybe one day, she'd join him.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: I was being mind controlled and now you're dying in my arms but you say it's not my fault.  
> Thanks for reading, feedback is always welcome!


End file.
